Sorry

This is generally how the Brits start a conversation: they first apologise for trespassing the airspace around your ears, and proceed to do it anyway. I don’t get it, why are you sorry, if you are going to inflict yourself on somebody anyway? And it’s supposed to be done thing, be polite for being polite’s sake. Which reminds me of an expression that a friend told me about, “All fart, no shit.”

But I digress.

Sorry for procrastinating on my blog. I didn’t realise that my blog was the high point of some people’s humdrum lives. Maybe I am being pretentious, but the dirty messages I saw left on my messenger, because I was taking this procrastination too far, from die-hard fans, whenever I got back from the loo, is testament to this fact.

~

Anyway, some of the readers would know what has been going on in my professional life in the past few weeks. To cut a long story short, I and my friends was caught on the wrong side of the entire financial crisis on the other side of the pond.

This suddenly meant that we had a lot more time on our hands than we are used to usually. We, the creme de la creme of the nation, trained to burn the midnight oil 365x24x7, have nothing better to do except maybe swat those non-existent flies.

Overnight, the time we spent on Orkut and Facebook reached an all-time high, we have almost memorised the sequence of songs that comes on 9XM, the only Indian music channel that we get on our TV, and we are slowly becoming, … wait for it…, typical Indian housewives.

~

Of course, the first week was kind of hectic, frantically calling whoever we knew whether they had any openings at their place, flooding the market with our CVs (Oh yeah, you heard something like 10,000 CVs in the market right? A few hundred can be attributed to the 5 guys in our house.)

Soon, all the emailing/calling/texting that we had to do, went down to a trickle, and we were had oodles of free time on our hands. If it’s one thing we are not prepared for, it’s a situation like this. It’s like visions of how our retirements are going to be.

Free time enables you to notice things like who left the Coke bottle open letting all the fizz out, or the guy who left a plate under the sofa for 7 days, with the ketchup on it dried on like superglue, or who made how many chappatties for whom yesterday. Believe you me, it sets up for interesting situations.

~

“Who the hell heated the chicken tikka masala in the microwave?”

Silence. Person who did it, trying to imagine what he did wrong.

“Yaar, the entire curry is splattered inside the microwave. Atleast you should clean it!”

Person who did it: “Why don’t you ever clean anything!?”

First person, thinking ‘Aha! Gotcha!’: “Jaa, saaf karke aa jaa!”

PWDI: “Tujhe saaf chahiye, tu saaf kar le! You never clean anything!”

FP, matter of factly: “That’s because, I don’t mess up anything!”

PWDI, thinking of a classy retort, to match the astute observation, glaring.

FP: “Jaa saaf karke aa ja, be!”

PWDI, still frantically to think up of something, finally comes up with “NO! Main nahi kar raha hoon!”

FP: Sigh.

~

And, yes junta, my blog is going to reflect what’s happening in my current life. Till somebody gets me a job in financial services. Resume will be sent on request. So, if you want to make me stop inflicting a housewive tales on the world, kind readers, get me employed. Quick.